


Peach Flower

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Series: Namesake [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Assassination, Demons, F/M, Fear, Illusions, Language of Flowers, Loyalty, Protection, Secrets, Seduction, Strategy & Tactics, Strong Female Characters, Torture, Traps, Treachery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got the idea in my head one day to bring some of the Naruto characters face-to-face with the thing they were named after for the first time. I thought it might be fun. Also accepting challenges!</p><p>Stories will be posted separately but as part of the Namesake series.</p><p>Part 5: Peach Blossom</p><p>Touka Senju is the merciless face of the newly formed ANBU. The flower in her target's hand defines his fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ishimaru_Asuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishimaru_Asuka/gifts).



> To issue a challenge, just comment on one of the stories in the series with the name you'd like to see done. The only stipulation is that it HAS to be a name that has a meaning, and it has to be a meaning that is something one can encounter. Example: Madara means "spots." What the heck am I supposed to do with that? On the other hand, Naruto's name refers to some kind of fish cake, which is something he could confront somehow.
> 
> Touka challenge from Ishimaru_Asuka
> 
> Touka = Peach Flower

“Touka,” a voice whispered. “I have done as you requested.”

She nodded, the barest perceptible movement of the chin, to show that she had heard. The other woman in the starburst mask vanished into the wall. They were five, the first five of the newly formed Special Assasination and Tactical Squad, or ANBU. They went by code names, all except for her. She was their leader, and their face. She was unafraid. Let them know. Let them _all_ know. Fear was a tool that could be used.

Touka, Tsubaki, Aoi, Ran, Sayuri.

Peach flower, camellia, hollyhock, orchid, and lily. Pretty names for the deadliest secret force in Konoha, but necessary. She and Mito were not fooled. For all their seemingly noble intentions, the Uchiha were nothing less than an army. A brutally dangerous army with a treacherous past. They were about as trustworthy as a pit of riled vipers, and no less deadly.

And so, she and Mito had put their heads together and come up with a plan. It had been Mito’s idea, but one that Touka had readily accepted. “Let’s put together a secret squad. We’ll wear masks and go by code names. They will be people that we trust that can gather intel and protect this Village from the shadows. You will be the face. It will distract them from the fact that it is really a special army to protect Hashirama and his dream of peace.” That was what Mito had said to her. They were creating an underground army whose sole purpose was first and foremost to protect the Hokage, but secondly to protect the Village from threats, both foreign and domestic.

“We should name ourselves after flowers, like your name,” Mito had said. “I’ll be Ran.”

“Let them know my face and name,” Touka had said, her voice as cold and hard as iron. “It will be good for them to fear us. It will keep them in check.”

She nodded. “There are only three others I know we can trust. Will five be enough?”

“It will have to be enough. We will be more in due time.”

After the first assassination, Touka came out to the Village as the leader of ANBU. At first, Hashirama had been upset, but then the attempts against his life began, and he had requested that two of them shadow him at all times. Currently, that was Aoi and Tsubaki. Mito herself was in his presence already. Hashirama did not know that she was part of this, and for the most part, Touka made sure to keep her out of most of the missions. She was a brain, a mouth, and an ear. She stayed close to the Hokage and heard his fears, gave him counsel, and dictated the missions to Touka and the others.

Aoi was the shadow. She was the best of them at concealing her presence. She was the one who gathered the intel and trailed suspected disloyalty. She was a whisper in the darkness, and an invaluable member of their team.

Tsubaki was the seductress. She was the original infiltrator kunoichi. She had all of the charm and grace to unbalance her target and lower his guard. She was ideal for assassination attempts. That rich, strawberry blonde hair and those deep amber eyes made her especially alluring. Even some of the women whispered that they wouldn’t say no to a night with Tsubaki. She was discreet and irresistible, and she had not failed any of her missions yet.

Sayuri was their botanist. It sounded benign, but it wasn’t. She maintained all of the flowers that they used during their communications, but she also housed their poison distillery and maintained an intricate network of spies. She was their heartbeat, their connection to the hearts and thoughts of the people. She read their fears and heard their dreams.

Touka was the captain. She was the aggressive right hand, the interrogator, and the torturer. She would do what was necessary to ensure the safety of her Hokage and of Konoha, even if that meant inflicting maximum pain. Mito did not ask her to do anything that was not absolutely necessary. Trust amongst the ANBU was important. Traitors could not be tolerated. They needed to be dealt with swiftly and vigorously.

That was what brought them to today’s exhibit. She waited for him in her office. Her office was really just a cover for the real office that awaited her victims below. It was sound proofed so that no one could hear the screams. There was a drain in the floor in case she made a mess. While she waited, she trimmed her nails with the edge of a sharp dagger. Intimidation was never wasteful. When he entered, she wanted to appear dangerous but completely at ease.

A soft knock sounded at the door. “Touka?” a warm masculine voice asked from beyond. “May I come in?”

She sighed, preparing for what was to come. She didn’t enjoy inflicting pain, but such things were often necessary to protect an entire people. “Enter.”

She peeked up from beneath delicately arched eyebrows as he stepped into her office. She knew that she was a beautiful woman; dark hair framed a narrow, elegant face, tipped with a sharp chin and a smart mouth. It was that pretty face that made her merciless ministrations all the more shocking. There were whispers flying about that she might be the jinchuriki. She let the rumors stand, even encouraged them a little. Assuming that she was the container of the nine tailed fox suited her purposes just fine.

As her visitor walked in, her eyes fell immediately to the frail flowers clutched between nervous fingers. She’d never actually seen a peach blossom that wasn't a picture in a book before, even if it was her namesake. She frowned at it, disappointed in its appearance. Pink was such a garish color.

Yori Sarutobi was a handsome young man, and lately he had entertained the thought of courting her. He was of a height with her and had the spiky dark hair common to his clan. Warm brown eyes peered out from a face accustomed to smiling. It was a friendly face, and one that inspired trust. He was in Hashirama’s good graces, and the two had been growing closer. And then, there was his recent advances on her romantic attentions.

It hadn’t added up. Women like her were always suspicious of compliments, and so the ANBU had investigated. They were using flower language to communicate with each other. A few carefully placed words, telling him what her favorite flowers were, and she’d know whether to politely refuse him or take him downstairs. Too bad he wasn’t holding a heliotrope. The peach blossom did not bode well for him. _I am your captive._ It was a message from Aoi. The man who held them was her mark, and he had walked straight into her trap.

“Yori,” she said pleasantly. “Shut the door, please. I need to speak with you.”

He smiled at her, thinking that perhaps they might get a clandestine moment alone. He turned to shut the door behind him.

By the time he had turned back around, she was there, within inches of his face. His eyes met hers as she finished the hand signs for her jutsu. “What are you—“ he tried to say, but it was too late.

Black ribbons burst out of thin air, binding his arms and legs and forcing their way down his throat. His eyes bulged with fear as both of them were dragged through the floor to her secret chamber below. The warmth and pleasantness in his eyes was gone now. All that was left now was honesty, and he was honestly terrified.

Her black ribbons laid him out on the surgical table in the center of the room. They wrapped around him from head to toe, leaving just his eyeballs, and bound him to the table. She tsked. “Yori Sarutobi. I’ve gotten word that you’ve been a _very_ naughty boy.” She pulled on a white lab coat and turned away from him to ready some wicked looking torture tools. Without turning around, she released he ribbons from his face, freeing his mouth.

The effect wasn’t much different from person to person. Either they screamed for help or insulted her. Neither was a great way to begin. “Help! Help me!” he hollered.

She shook her head ruefully. “Come now, Yori. Do you think I would have released your mouth if you could cry for help and have your Uchiha friends come rescue you?” She turned slightly to look upon him. His brown eyes widened with realization. She hadn’t known who the mole was until he'd walked in holding that flower, but she knew the intel.

It turned out that the Sarutobi clan was in bed with the Uchiha clan. Yori was feeding Hashirama’s secrets to the Uchiha clan, and many of Hashirama’s plans were too conveniently unraveling, thwarting his progress on certain civil projects, like the formation of the academy to train new Shinobi. She could only guess that his attention toward her was to get close to the supposed jinchuriki. How disgusting.

She laughed. “What? Surprised I know where your loyalties lay?” She turned completely back to him clutching her tray of tools. Upon it lay scalpels, pincers, barbed prodding equipment, and a number of other fear-inspiring tools that promised pain in a way the victims could never guess but were deliciously imaginative. "I know so much about you, Yori," she purred. "And if things go poorly, I think I'll get to know you... a _lot_ better." She smirked.

He whimpered when his eyes fell upon the tools. “You’re… not going to kill me, are you?”

She smiled cheerfully and set the tray down on a small table next to the table. “Yori, I think that you and I are going to be _very_ good friends. All you need to do is tell me everything. What are they promising you?” She lifted a device for cutting off fingertips and tested it. It was a little rusty and squeaked as she tested it in the air a couple of times. She pouted at it, shrugged dramatically, and held it precariously over his hand.

He was not amused, and she didn’t blame him. People didn’t usually relish losing their fingertips, but with blades as rusty as those, he could get tetanus, too! “Y-y-you,” he stammered out. “An important position in the Village and you!”

“Me?” she asked with mock incredulity. Of course she had already known, so it wasn’t very surprising. “Are you sure you want that?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. He certainly didn’t look sure. Not near as sure as he had been when he’d entered her office with those hopeful, ugly peach blossoms. “Let’s get something straight,” she told him coldly, eyes narrowing. She started weaving hand signs. “Whatever they offer you, whatever they threaten you with…” She finished, and her demonic illusions sprang to life. Shrieking shadow demons burst from her back in a storm of high pitched keening and a deafening roar. The room shook, and the lights went out. There was just enough of a glow from her chakra to illuminate the strained, pained faces of the eerie souls of her jutsu, and to light up the menacing look in her eyes. The room was so full of dark transient beings that the air was sucked from the room and there was no way to move about without touching them. The illusion lent her evil glowing red eyes and fangs, too, just for effect. It was a projection of what hell might be like, and it worked on most people. For the ones that it didn’t… well, that’s what the finger snippers were for.

Finally, she finished her sentence. “...None of them are as terrifying as we are.” Before her, Yori Sarutobi cowered, awed by her raw power and ferocity. He nodded and swallowed, clearly trying to appear harmless. She released the genjutsu and patted his cheek with affection and a gentle smile. “Hashirama is the Hokage of this Village,” she told him firmly. “Your loyalty is to him first. You ever give us a reason to question that loyalty again, and I’ll come after you myself. Next time I won’t be so gentle. Understand?"

He nodded. 

"I can't hear you..." she admonished, pinching his cheek a little too hard.

He winced even as he gulped. "Yes, Touka."

She smiled again. "Good. If I hear anything less than that the Sarutobi clan is Konoha's most noble, dependable, and loyal clan, I will eradicate every last one of you."

The genjutsu released, and both of them were in her office again. He stood by the door, unharmed, clutching the peach blossoms. She was sitting at her desk, the dagger in her fingers, poised to pick at her nails. It was as if nothing had transpired at all. She hesitated, allowing the moment to stretch on uncomfortably as he came to terms with his bewilderment. "Were you going to ask me something?" she asked innocently.

His eyes were as wide as plates as he took in his new scenery. He paled as he looked between her and the bouquet of pink flowers held hopefully in his hands. She wanted to laugh as she imagined what he might be thinking. Had he dreamed it all up? "I... I think there's been a mistake," he croaked. He dropped the pink flowers on the floor of her office and couldn't escape fast enough. As the door creaked and swayed, left ajar, she laughed, the sound of her voice echoing down the hallway. She returned to her manicure and kicked her feet up, satisfied with her work.

Fear was a tool that she could _definitely_ use.

 

**Author's Note:**

> "Peach flower" sounded kind of fagtastic, so I did some poking and prodding to make the pinched, sharp, not so feminine face of Touka into a character that was a little more badass than a pussy flower. 
> 
> It turned out a little dark, but in a way I'm pretty happy with it. And actually, I could see this turning into a larger fic in the future.
> 
> EDIT: This is being transformed into a huge, founders era fic between me and cowriter Ishimaru_Asuka. If you like it, please hit the subscribe button for my author page. 60,000 words so far, headed toward about 200,000 or so. :) Best shit I've ever written fo realz. 
> 
> I've noticed, too, a readership spike for this one. I'm curious... what happened? How did you find this fic? Please tell me in a comment?


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